Silence Like A Cancer Grows
by SpobyFicStalker
Summary: "When the doorbell rang, her helper instantly deserted her." An unexpected visitor disrupts Spencer and Toby's harmonious family life, and soon they have no choice but to face both past and present demons. Spencer and Toby. Twoshot.
1. PART ONE

A/N: In the event that you guys hopefully aren't sick of me yet… here I am again. :) This fic would have seen the light of day weeks ago if not for certain events on the show (that I don't even watch anymore but still halfheartedly follow on Tumblr). I'm hoping you'll understand why I decided to postpone posting for a while.

Which brings me to my next point. This thing will be two chapters in total. I pride myself on quick updates – or I'm just a control freak who can't post anything until I have the whole story already written. Either way, you can expect the second and final chapter within the week for sure.

* * *

 **Silence Like A Cancer Grows**

 _"Fools," said I, "you do not know,  
silence like a cancer grows."  
\- The Sound of Silence, Simon & Garfunkel_

PART ONE

May 2030

It started out as a beautiful day.

The weather forecast had been spot on with the sun already spreading significant warmth before nine a.m. They couldn't have asked for better weather for Lawrence's game on this Saturday morning, Spencer thought as she grabbed a carton of eggs from the fridge.

Cleo was by her side in a flash. "Can I do it please, Mommy?" she requested politely.

Spencer smiled at her. "Sure. Pull up a chair."

Cleo did as she was told and went on to crack the eggs into the pan with careful seven-year-old precision.

"Stir," Spencer guided her, turning the heat down on the stove. She took Cleo's wrist and helped her through the motions, smiling at her other daughter who had made her way into the kitchen unnoticed.

"Hi, sweet pea. Can you set the table for me, please? Where's your brother?"

"Here," Lawrence announced, entering with none of the subtlety that Eloise had practiced just moments before. "Daddy couldn't find my uniform."

"Excuse me," Toby sanctioned him lightly, also arriving. "It was in the dryer just like I said it would be."

They'd already cuddled in bed for a few minutes after the alarm went off, but now that they were both fully awake he came to kiss her good morning again anyway.

"Hi," she murmured with a smile. "There's fresh coffee in the pot."

"Thanks." He gently tickled Cleo's ribs before grabbing his coffee and getting to work making fresh orange juice for the entire family. Lawrence and Eloise set the table mostly in harmony, and Spencer took a moment to appreciate that the kids were now old enough to contribute to making mornings like this a little less hectic.

When the doorbell rang, her helper instantly deserted her.

"I'll get it," she shrieked, and before Spencer knew it Cleo was gone and only the ends of her long, dark hair could be seen as she disappeared around the corner. Spencer looked at Toby in disbelief, who shrugged and chuckled.

"We expecting anyone?" he asked.

"Not that I know of," Spencer replied absentmindedly, giving the eggs another quick stir.

She heard the door open and a muffled voice that her distracted brain didn't immediately recognize. Toby, on the other hand, froze in his spot and then dashed into the hall leaving Spencer behind in slight astonishment.

Her first instinct was to go after him but she turned the stove off first, removed the pan and started to rapidly scoop scrambled eggs onto five plates. The first pieces of toast popped up, and she was about to ask Lawrence to get them when Cleo reappeared looking confused and somewhat unsettled.

"Well?" Spencer wanted to know. "Who was at the door?"

"Daddy's sister," was Cleo's reply, and Spencer's blood ran cold as she squeezed the pan in a white-knuckled grip.

"What?"

"She said she was Daddy's sister," Cleo repeated, sounding slightly upset. "I didn't even know he had a sister."

"He doesn't," Spencer answered shortly, and then looked all three of her children in the eye. She used that quiet voice that she only used in very extreme circumstances – the one they knew not to cross. "Listen, I want you to eat your breakfast quietly and stay here in the kitchen. Do you understand?"

They nodded, and Spencer quickly scattered toast across their plates before charging out into the hall. It was only when she spotted Jenna Marshall's dark, sleek hair and black sunglasses that she accepted her as reality.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, coming to the house like this?" she hissed, squirming against Toby's hands as he held her back. "Get out. You're not welcome here."

"Hi, Spencer," Jenna replied with a politeness that made Spencer feel even more murderous than she already did. "I had a little chat with your daughter earlier. She seems delightful."

"Shut up, Jenna," Toby muttered, and before anyone could say anything more he closed the door on her.

"If she comes near you or the kids again, I'm calling the cops," she warned him.

"Spencer," he said quietly. "It's my dad."

It shook her. When she was pregnant all those years ago, even before finding out they were having triplets, she and Toby had sworn to each other that their child would never be in the same room as their father's rapist. Any contact they may or may not have with Toby's father and stepmother was to be coordinated around this vow, and they had both agreed that it was nonnegotiable. Now, Spencer had been so upset at having failed at their objective that it hadn't even occurred to her that there might actually be a reason for Jenna's visit.

"What happened?" she asked, her temper instantaneously simmering down and replaced with genuine concern.

"He's in the hospital. He had a heart attack."

"Oh, honey…" She moved closer to him, her hands coming to rest on his chest and her fingers softly stroking the fabric of his shirt. "He's going to be okay, right?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "I think I should go see him."

She nodded. "Of course."

"I'm sorry, I know we had a lot planned for today…"

He was, of course, referring to Lawrence's soccer game, and the weather looked so promising that they'd decided to take the kids to the pool later that afternoon.

"It's okay," she reassured him. "I've got this, don't worry about us. Call me as soon as you have news?"

He nodded in agreement and leaned in to give her a quick but powerful hug, squeezing her hand before definitively parting with her. "Give the kids a kiss from me? And tell Lawrence good luck with his game?"

"I will," she promised. "Toby?"

He turned back towards and waited expectantly, and she swallowed. "Please don't get in the cab with her."

A tiny but utterly humorless smirk crossed his lips. "I won't. I'm taking the truck."

"Good." She considered asking him to tell his father she said hello, but ultimately decided against it. It had been a year and a half since she'd seen him, it hadn't exactly ended well and she didn't want to do anything to disturb the peace at a time like this.

Through the window, she watched Toby exchange a few more tense words with Jenna before they made their way to separate vehicles. She hoped today wasn't too hard on him. It was against her principles, but she found herself passionately hoping for the best.

* * *

August 2022

This was a terrible idea.

Nothing good could come out of this, Spencer reasoned as she shoved her car in park. She was playing with fire.

Her father-in-law had already arrived at the coffee bar, and she cursed inwardly. She had hoped to sit down for a minute, order a drink and mentally arm herself for what was to come. But on the other hand, she had no idea what she had to prepare for. She'd had to pinch herself when he called her a few days ago, requesting to meet for coffee. Toby still talked to him on the phone from time to time but she and Daniel were barely even on speaking terms, and when she'd tried to gauge as politely as she possibly could what this was about he hadn't been very forthcoming.

The truth was that Spencer would rather eat lead than be alone with Daniel Cavanaugh. She could easily think of a million more appealing ways to spend her afternoon, but he was Toby's father and if he was attempting to reach out to her she really couldn't justify rebuffing his invitation. Especially since they were about to merge blood. The babies growing inside her belly were going to be his grandchildren, and Spencer decided that if he wanted to build bridges she would definitely meet him halfway.

Still, her stomach squirmed with unease as she recalled the last of their phone conversation. They'd agreed on a time and a place, and then Daniel had dropped the bomb.

"Spencer, I would appreciate it if you didn't tell my son."

Her mouth went dry. "I have no secrets from your son," she proclaimed, fearing for one awful moment that he would sneer at her, remind her of all the things she'd kept from Toby during the first few years of their relationship. Not that he'd been around enough to know much about that.

"Please," he requested, and Spencer had never known him to use that word in her life. "Please come and hear me out. If you still want to tell Toby after that, I won't stop you."

It went against every instinct she had, but she looked down at her growing belly and found herself agreeing.

It had been four days and she already resented him for it, she realized as she sat down and looked into the cold, gray eyes of her father-in-law. He thanked her for coming and asked how she was, how Toby was, how the babies were. She answered guardedly, wishing he would skip the formalities and just spit it out so she could stop feeling like she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you here," Daniel spoke after his attempt at small talk had fizzled out.

"Yes," she admitted, and considered saying more but ended up taking a less standoffish approach.

He sighed. "Spencer, you're a smart woman. I'm not going to insult your intelligence."

She barely had time to register the unexpected compliment before he continued, and this time his words would sting.

"I wasn't too happy when my son started dating you. I wasn't happy when he followed you to college, and I certainly wasn't happy when he married you. For years, I waited and waited for the whole thing to fall apart but it never did."

Spencer's stomach rolled, and she swore she felt her lunch start to make its way up her esophagus.

"But things are different now," he went on. He nodded at her protruding stomach. "You're about to be parents. I'd like a relationship with my grandchildren. Hell, I'd like a relationship with my son. I want to believe in your marriage with him, but…" His eyes bore into her soul. "I'm afraid I'm going to need you to help me with that."

 _What the fuck are you talking about_ , her brain exploded. But instead, she said stupidly, "I'm sorry?"

"Come on, Spencer. Let's not play games. We've already established that you're a very clever woman, and you must know you're also exceptionally beautiful. You come from a very wealthy, respected family. You enter a room, and people _notice_ you." He paused, and his tone changed ever so slightly. "My son is a simple guy, and he hasn't always made the best decisions in his life. I'm not sure what you think he can offer you."

Spencer gripped the edge of the table. She focused on simply breathing in and out for a few seconds, thinking this might be the only way she knew how to make it stop feeling like the room was closing in on her. Finally mustering the trust in herself to control her fury, she looked into her father-in-law's hard but somehow frighteningly familiar face and it occurred to her that if this were anyone else she would have blasted them into the next century. Her relationship with Toby had always been sacred. Never had she felt the need to explain or defend it, and she'd never lost a wink of sleep over those who didn't understand it.

But she hadn't lost sight of the reason she was here in the first place. She remembered her husband and their unborn children – all of whom shared the genes of the man sitting before her. She would not contribute to the downfall of their relationship with him. She refused.

"I was born into a family that had very high expectations of me," she began hoarsely. It occurred to her that he probably had no idea why she was telling him this but she couldn't find the energy to care. "Nothing was ever good enough, but I realized early on that the higher I scored the more attention they gave me. They made me feel like I had to work for their love. Throughout my whole childhood, I believed all love was conditional. It was just… the way I thought it went."

She avoided his eyes, not wanting him to see the heavy emotions tossing and turning under the surface of her self-restraint. "Toby changed that for me. He made me feel like… like it didn't matter how imperfect I was, or how profoundly I screwed up. He loved me. He would always love me, and it made me feel safe in ways I never imagined. No one could ever mean to me what he does."

Nothing more came to her consciousness, and when she chanced a glance at her father-in-law's face she saw a small inkling of what she thought she'd never see. Sympathy.

Unfortunately, it was accompanied by a lot of doubt.

"I know what you're thinking," she continued quickly. "It shouldn't only be about me, right? I shouldn't only love his ability to love me. But he's your son – don't you know how wonderful he is? Don't you know how rare it is to come across someone who is that genuinely _good_? I've never known anyone like him. Maybe you wonder what I see in him but I look at him every day and wonder what he sees in _me_."

Daniel went very quiet after that, and she wanted so achingly to say more. She wanted to tell him what an extraordinary spouse Toby was. Someone who was a true partner as well as a gentle lover and a great friend. Someone who called her out on her bullshit but still caught her when she crumbled. There was so much more she wanted him to know, but a lump rose in her throat and she honestly didn't believe she'd be able to utter the words without choking up.

And so they sat in silence for several minutes.

"I accept this," Daniel suddenly spoke with a nod. "But I'm going to ask again. Please don't tell Toby we met."

"Why?" she wanted to know, feeling upset. "I don't want to keep this from him. I don't want that kind of poison in my marriage."

"Do you really want him to know?" he fired back. "Do you want him to know I…"

He didn't finish, but Spencer knew how that sentence was supposed to end. _Do you want him to know I doubted him? Him and his ability to be enough for you?_

She imagined telling him, and envisioned the hurt she would surely see in his eyes. It would very likely cause another huge scar on the already wounded remains of his nonexistent relationship with his father, and Spencer didn't know if she could stand doing that to him. Especially not since Daniel, despite his stoic exterior, had taken great steps towards finally accepting his son's relationship with her. He was expressing a desire to finally be a part of Toby's life and of their children's lives, and she knew she didn't want to jeopardize their chances to make amends.

"I'm not doing this for you," she told him coldly, wanting that to be crystal clear. "I'm doing it for him. If you ever doubt how much I love him, remember this."

She went home to Toby not much later. She hugged him extra tight, ran her fingers along his cheek and came close to spilling everything as she looked into his open, honest features.

But she didn't. She stayed quiet to protect him, and miserably she wondered if this was once again what her life had come to.

* * *

May 2030

She hadn't heard from Toby since he left for Rosewood this morning. She'd kept her phone close all day, trying not to feel too anxious when it remained silent. Firmly, she told herself it had only been a few hours. This day was too gorgeous and summery for her to be moping around.

She stretched out in the lounge chair and wiggled her toes, enjoying the sunlight on her face and on her bikini-clad body. Her eyes rarely left the three kids playing in the water, even though they had all been swimming independently for years now. They were taking turns diving to the bottom of the pool to retrieve some kind of plastic toy, and despite the tropical climate Spencer could already see Eloise's lips turning blue. She wasn't as agile and temperamental as her siblings, which made her more susceptible to cold and nine times out of ten she was the first to desert the water whenever they took the kids swimming.

Sure enough, Spencer noticed her blue-eyed, blue-lipped child making her way towards her not five minutes later. Reaching for a towel, she held it open and firmly wrapped it around her daughter's small frame. Then she pulled Eloise towards her chest and just held her for a few minutes, knowing that this was her kids' favorite way of drying off. In all honesty, she appreciated the distraction her motherly duties provided in this moment.

Soon, she briskly ran a brush through her daughter's wet hair and provided a container of grapes when the child mentioned she was hungry. It almost wasn't distraction enough, Spencer realized with some humor. She closely observed the little girl still sitting between her legs, watching her quietly and contentedly pop one grape after the other in her mouth. For all her worrying about Eloise, she didn't take enough time to appreciate what a breeze she actually was. All she really required was nourishment and closeness and she was the happiest kid in the world.

Spencer leaned in and kissed her silky cheek. "Is that yummy?"

Eloise nodded enthusiastically, reaching for another grape and turning to place it in her mother's mouth. Spencer was still chewing on the fruity deliciousness when her phone finally went off, and she snatched it up at the first ring.

"Hello?"

"It's me." Her shoulders sagged and she swore the mere sound of his voice calmed her.

"What's going on?" she asked quickly, swallowing the grape down. "How is he?"

He sighed. "It was definitely a minor heart attack, but they said he's going to be okay."

Spencer closed her eyes in relief. "Thank God." She absentmindedly fiddled with the strap of Eloise's bathing suit. "Have you gotten the chance to talk to him?"

"Yeah," he affirmed.

"How'd it go?"

He didn't answer her question directly. "Spence, I've been thinking... What happened last year? I… I don't want to let that be the end of our relationship with him. I've been thinking really hard, and… I don't think I'm ready to give up."

She was hyper aware of the extremely intuitive seven-year-old within earshot, and selected her words very carefully. "I can understand that you feel that way. Especially after today."

"We need to discuss it more, I know," he said quickly. "I'm just saying… Maybe we should revisit the idea of spending some time with him again."

"I support you. You know that," she added softly.

"I do." She heard the slight tremor of emotion his voice. "I miss you. I wish you were here with me."

She couldn't express what a relief it was for her whenever he indicated that he, too, felt out of whack whenever they was going through something trying without each other. "Me too."

"How's your day going?" he asked. "You still at the pool?"

"Yeah," she answered, smoothing her fingers through Eloise's damp hair. "Ellie's here with me, the other two are still in the water."

His tone was regretful. "I'm bummed I'm missing out. How was Lawrence's game?"

"They won," she informed him, satisfied. "He scored two goals."

"Not surprised. He has more eye-foot coordination than I ever will."

She laughed and so did he.

"I should get back," he told her, though she sensed his desire to linger.

"Okay," she relented. "Any idea when you'll be home?"

"Not really, sorry. Could be late. I'll try to find another moment to call but don't stay up, okay?"

"Don't drive if you're too tired," she warned him. "I'd rather you spend the night in Rosewood than fall asleep behind the wheel. I'm sure my parents would be happy to–"

"No, I'm coming home," he told her definitively.

She sighed. "Okay. Be safe. And good luck with your dad."

"Spencer…"

"Yeah?"

His voice caught. "I love you so much."

"I love you more," she rebutted, trying to keep the exchange light because she could tell his emotions were all over the place.

She heard the smile in his response. "Not possible."

They hung up, and it was one of those rare moments that Spencer felt completely at peace.

* * *

November 2028

These kids must have the sharpest memories of any three little people she knew, Spencer thought in a mixture of exasperation and condolence. They had only just turned six, and still they remembered enough about last year's Thanksgiving and likely the one before that to know they weren't exactly in a rush to experience it again.

"Lawrence, stand still," she gently scolded him as she parted his hair to the side and combed it down. "And Cleo, why are you still not dressed?"

The little girl scowled and slowly made her way over to the dress and tights Spencer had laid out for her. Eloise played at Spencer's feet while waiting her turn for her mother to do her hair, but her motions were disconnected and her expression just looked miserable.

Spencer sighed deeply. When Toby's father had contacted her all those years ago and claimed he wanted to know his grandchildren, this was hardly what she had in mind. She certainly hadn't expected him to win any prizes for World's Best Poppy, but she _had_ hoped they'd get to see him more than once a year on a holiday that he spent a vast majority of ignoring them anyway.

"Cleo," she said warningly, noticing this kid still hadn't made any progress in removing her pajamas.

"I'm not going," her daughter retorted stubbornly. "I don't like it there."

There was a moment of strained silence as Spencer and Cleo regarded each other almost glaringly while Lawrence and Eloise looked on with mild apprehension. Spencer nearly let her impatience get the best of her. It would have been only too easy to release some of her own stress, but then she considered her other two children and knew without a doubt that Cleo had spoken for all three of them when she expressed dislike of visiting her father's side of the family.

"Come here," she requested quietly. "Lawrence and Eloise, you too."

Spencer sat down on the edge of the bathtub as they all gathered around her. "Look, I know this isn't your favorite thing to do. I understand. But he's your grandfather, which means he's family. And I know he's not very good at showing it but he loves you and he's happy to see you."

"He's never happy about anything," Cleo disagreed.

Spencer still believed empathy was the best approach under the circumstances, and reached for her daughter's hand. "He's Daddy's daddy."

Of course they knew this already, but she let it really sink in. She couldn't quite explain her need to protect Toby from their children's lack of enthusiasm regarding his father. All she knew was she couldn't bear it for him.

"Can we please do this for Daddy?" she asked carefully.

She saw lenience and warmth slowly creep into their gazes, and felt a surge of unimaginable gratitude. She had good kids. She had sweet, compassionate, big-hearted kids, and she loved the shit out of each of them.

The drive to Rosewood was subdued and mostly silent. Even Lawrence didn't go about his usual chatterbox ways, and Spencer tried several times to lighten the mood but none of her loved ones seemed to bite. Toby was never quite himself on these Thanksgiving days anyway. Though it was very subtle, she'd notice he was tense and easily distracted. While her way of dealing with stress was admittedly to harbor a shorter fuse, he had the habit of mentally checking out.

He put on a deliberate smile as they all exited the car. All three of the kids smiled back for him, as did Spencer, and it ignited both an appreciative and an unbalancing sensation in her – the way they all pretended for each other that they were glad to be here.

She quickly rearranged Lawrence's once again messy hair, gave Eloise's hand a reassuring squeeze and exchanged an ambiguous look with her husband right before the door opened to reveal his stepmother. Celeste Cavanaugh's greetings were always cordial but never warm, and Spencer knew she still nursed residual resentment for them making Jenna's absence a condition for coming every year.

Daniel appeared soon after, approaching Toby first. _Hug him_ , she silently begged, but the older man reached out his hand instead. They murmured hellos and wished each other a Happy Thanksgiving, and afterwards Daniel turned to his grandchildren. _Hug them_ , she pleaded again, but he simply attempted a crooked smile and said, "Hi, kids." Then he nodded at her. "Hi, Spencer."

Both she and Toby had given up trying to help in the kitchen years ago – they couldn't do anything right anyway, according to Celeste – so they settled on the couch instead. Just like every year, Spencer had hoped and prayed for sunny weather so she could wrap her kids in their coats and send them to play in the backyard, where they could easily fight boredom and escape the tension inside the house. No such luck today. The skies were rainy and foggy, and it wasn't long before she sensed the kids growing restless.

Neither of Toby's parents had ever thought to provide their grandchildren with anything to play with when they came over, but Spencer came prepared. She retrieved a box of their toys from the car, which caused their glum little faces to brighten. Not asking for permission, she set them up in the open part of the family room before making her way back to Toby. She squeezed his leg and smiled encouragingly at him while his father had left to check on something in the kitchen, and he seemed to relax just slightly as his fingers grazed hers.

In hindsight, she couldn't say exactly when or where it all went wrong. There were a few minor incidents, but that was no different from previous years. She certainly noticed Daniel's disapproving look when Lawrence came over and unapologetically nestled himself in Toby's lap. She knew from her husband's childhood stories that his father probably believed six-year-old boys were too old to still get away with things like that, especially in public and especially with their fathers, and she couldn't help but feel satisfied to see Toby pull him closer and plant a kiss on his cheek.

She also definitely heard her father-in-law's impatient sigh when Cleo accidentally knocked over her glass of water. See-through liquid spilled across the table and partly onto the displayed appetizers, and Cleo quickly wailed, "I'm sorry!"

It was unlike her to be so clumsy and she was clearly mortified, which made Spencer desperately hope her grandfather would put her mind at ease. He and Toby both told her it was all right, but while Toby sounded sincere Spencer couldn't help but feel his father could have tried a little harder.

Lastly, although it almost went by unnoticed, she saw Eloise freeze from across the room when Daniel unexpectedly raised his voice in chagrin as he complained about increased taxes. It was such a minor event but this child didn't do well with loud voices, and the fright in her wide eyes all but broke Spencer's heart. She stole a quick glance at Toby in the hopes that he hadn't noticed, but as usual he was just as aware of their children's state of mind as she was and she saw instantly that it hadn't escaped him, either.

Oddly enough, the straw that broke the camel's back was when Daniel spoke over her. Interrupted her reply to his inquiry to her work to tell Celeste something about refilling the ice tray. It wasn't the first time this had happened, today or in the past, but years and years of silent frustration had piled up and Spencer saw at once that her calm, gentle husband had reached his breaking point.

And that was the thing about Toby – it took a long time for him to snap but when he did, it was ugly and there was no turning back.

"Spencer," he spoke through gritted teeth, though he wasn't looking at her. He looked straight at his father. "We're leaving. Can you and the kids head out to the car?"

She didn't try to salvage the situation. She knew it was no use, so she stood and addressed her children as collectedly as she could. "Come on, guys. Let's pick up your toys and go."

They clearly sensed the ticking time bomb in the room and didn't have to be told twice. They were all scurrying to the car very soon after, their coats still hanging open, and Spencer settled them into their car seats and asked them to buckle up.

"Where are you going?" Cleo asked, sounding nervous.

"Back inside. Stay here, I'll be right back."

She heard her husband's voice before she saw him, and the closer she came the more it became clear that the happy faces she and the kids had put on hadn't fooled anyone.

"Do you even care that one of my daughters is terrified of you and the other one thinks you don't like her?" His tone was hard and strained, but the underlying hurt was what stood out to her more than anything else. "And that my son manages to strike up a conversation with everyone but you? And that Spencer tries so hard to keep it together for everyone and for me in particular but I know she dreads coming here just like the kids do? I'm done, Dad. I can't do this to them anymore. You're welcome at the house anytime but I refuse to put my family through this charade every year. It makes them uncomfortable and just plain unhappy."

He didn't look surprised to see her when he turned around. He held out his hand, she took it and they walked out the door together.

* * *

May 2030

Spencer waited till about midnight for him but then gave in, texted him goodnight and went to sleep.

The next thing she was aware of was being pulled from a restless slumber and feeling confused until she saw the silhouette of his frame sitting on the bed. He was facing away from her, and she groggily reached out to let her fingers creep underneath his T-shirt and find the soft skin on his lower back.

"Hey. Come to bed. How's your dad?"

His face turned in her direction but he didn't turn around, and in the dark she couldn't make out much of his expression. "He's dead, Spencer."

It felt like a nightmare she would soon wake up from. It took several seconds for his words so fully register with her, and then she waited for her reality to change because this couldn't be true. Not when she hadn't prepared for it. Not when she hadn't even considered it a possibility.

The silence that held the room soon grew deafening, and Spencer's exhausted, foggy brain fought to catch up. "What are you talking about?" she finally sputtered. "I thought the doctors said it was minor and he would be okay?"

"He had a second heart attack a few hours ago." His voice was flat and void of any hint of emotion, and it made her feel sick to her stomach. "No one could have seen it coming, and it was much more severe. They did what they could."

She couldn't move. It was as if shock had paralyzed her, and it was Toby who shattered the feel of surrealism when he got up from the bed and headed for the adjacent bathroom. Spencer scrambled after him, in the harsh light she saw his face was stricken and his body language was bone-tired.

"Toby…" Her voice trembled as her arms wrapped around him and her mouth rested against the cotton of his shirt. "I don't know what to say. I'm so, so sorry."

He shrugged almost apathetically in her grasp. "You always hated him."

"That's not true," she protested. "I thought he was a crappy father and I wanted more for you, but I never hated him."

"It's okay, Spence." He sounded resigned now, and nearly crippled with weariness. He brushed a kiss against her forehead. "Go back to bed. I'll be there in a minute."

Her arms dropped from around him but she remained rooted in her spot. "Why won't you talk to me about this?"

"What's there to talk about?" He looked at her for the first time and seemed like he genuinely wanted to know. "This isn't going to change anything. We'll go on with our lives tomorrow and it's not like there's going to be anything that's different."

She knew he was right to a degree. She and the kids hadn't seen Daniel since the fatal Thanksgiving eighteen months ago. Toby had dropped by once or twice when they were in Rosewood for other reasons, but he always went alone. He'd mentioned his father kept insisting he was going to come visit them at their house, but it never happened and Spencer had often wondered how sincere his promise really was.

However, her husband's current lethargy was highly unlike him. It unnerved her, and she didn't know what to do or how to approach.

"Toby," she said softly, her hands coming up to squeeze his shoulders. "You just lost your father. No matter what, you're allowed to be devastated."

She almost added that he was technically an orphan now, but she didn't. He'd likely already realized it anyway, and in no way did she want to add salt to an already open wound.

Toby exhaled. "I appreciate what you're saying. I do. But all I feel is empty, and I really just want to go to bed and start over tomorrow."

How could she deny him that? It was three in the morning, he was clearly burned out and the last thing she wanted was to push him to face things he wasn't ready to face. She stayed nearby as he changed and brushed his teeth. It felt wrong to leave him, even to the next room, and so she lingered even as goosebumps started to form on her bare legs. They fell into bed together, and she hesitated a little but he scooted all the way up to her and kissed her mouth and then the tip of her nose, and she felt better.

Sleep didn't come easy for either of them. Toby was uncharacteristically restless. He tossed and turned, snuggled up to her and moved away as if he himself couldn't even figure out what he needed. As if that wasn't enough, her own psyche kept her awake, too. Thoughts of how they were going to break this to their children made it impossible for her to casually doze off, not the mention the idea that they were going to have to work with Celeste – and by default, Jenna – to plan a funeral, and of course the unpredictability of her husband's grieving process.

At one point he got up and used the bathroom, and Spencer hoped against all odds this would rid him of his cooped up energy. When he returned he was still for several minutes but then the moving around started again, and she sighed and turned her body towards him.

"Hey." She reached for his arm and carefully tugged him towards her. "Come here."

Sometimes when she couldn't sleep, he would position her against his chest and simply breathe in and out very deliberately, allowing her to adapt to his heartbeat and radiating calmness. He would run his hand slowly up and down from her neck to her tailbone until her muscles relaxed and her eyelids went droopy.

She had no idea if it would work on him but it was certainly worth a try, she thought as she gently escorted his head to her chest.

She brushed her fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead, trying to relax. She let her hand slide down to his neck and his jaw before it made its way down his back. His body hadn't changed much over the years. His shoulders were still broad and his muscles taut. She still appreciated when he removed his shirt, and she still caught other women (and men) subtly checking him out all the time. She'd actually just thought about it today when she was at the pool with the kids. If Toby were there he surely would have spent some time with the water with them, throwing them away from him and listening to their sweet, delighted laughter as they disappeared with a big splash.

Although he was unaware of it, he turned heads wherever he went. But for some reason, the pool was where he seemed to stand out the most. Apparently, being an obvious family man while having the appearance of an underwear model tended to catch people's eye.

She knew he'd completely rejected the only example he'd had of a husband and a father. He'd made his own way instead, and knowing that only made her love him more.

She felt his first sob before she heard it. It made its way up from his gut to his chest to his throat, and she immediately tightened her arms around him as if that would stop it from escaping his lips. Tears soon poured from his eyes, and subsequently her own. She held him close, whispering sweet nothings in his ear and kissing his face as his broken spirit finally met release.

He stayed in her arms until he went quiet, and even afterwards he didn't budge. Eventually he moved away and went to lie on his back, staying perfectly still for a few long seconds. Then he turned back to her and wrapped his body around hers protectively.

And this time, they slept.


	2. PART TWO

A/N: Thanks to all you beautiful souls who read, reviewed, followed and/or favorited. Now that the show is coming to its end (thank God, it's been a long time coming), I'm not sure if writing Spoby is even relevant anymore? Assuming that writing fic is relevant at all. LOL. Anyway! I don't mean to bother you guys with my musings. I hope you enjoy the second and final installment. :)

* * *

PART TWO

May 2030

Sunday mornings were often the only laidback mornings they had all week. She and Toby definitely liked to sleep in for as long as their children would allow it, and over the years it had become a tradition for the kids to crawl in bed with them one by one. Cleo was their early riser and nearly always first. She took great pleasure in claiming the best spot – smack dab in between her parents, who enjoyed this alone time with her whether it was ten minutes or half an hour.

This morning, she was completely unaware of the tragic events that had transpired the night before and how her father's life had changed forever. She came in with hair sticking out at all angles and a bright smile. She wormed her way to the middle of her parents' embrace, which caused them to groan amusedly before welcoming her into their cuddle and kissing her good morning. She provided hilarious commentary ("Daddy, your beard is scratchy") and asked the deep questions ("Mommy, how come you think Daddy's shirts are pajamas?"). She brought a sense of normalcy back to their distraught existences, and Spencer was more grateful than her seven-year-old child could ever know.

It was always a toss up who would show up next, but this morning it was Lawrence. He settled himself between his mother and sister, and Spencer's fingers sifted through his hair lazily as he leaned against her. Toby congratulated him on his two goals from yesterday, and Lawrence beamed as they high-fived each other over Cleo's head. There was a moment of slight disorder when Cleo complained he kept scratching her legs with his toenails, but Spencer quickly trapped his feet between her own and that seemed to satisfy Cleo for now.

Eloise entered not long after her brother. She didn't try to force herself into the pile of entwined limbs – she was happy to settle in on Toby's other side, and when he kissed her she held up her beloved Donkey for him to kiss, too.

Spencer studied her husband very closely as he listened to his children tell him what they'd done at the pool yesterday. His eyes were clear and attentive and… peaceful? It hardly seemed possible after the tumultuous night they'd had, but for now he seemed at ease with himself. He smiled when Cleo told him she'd beat all the boys in their swimming race. He kissed her head affectionately, then kissed Eloise's, then reached over and kissed Lawrence and then leaned in even further to plant a firm kiss on Spencer's mouth.

She got the message. He loved them. He loved them and he was happy and thankful to be here with them.

"Who wants pancakes?" Spencer finally asked, which was met with enthusiasm from the kids. She smiled and told them to head downstairs and get the ingredients ready, and with lots of squirming and chattering they were suddenly gone and it was just the two of them again.

"How are you feeling?" Spencer asked softly, pushing her fingers through the soft hair above her husband's forehead.

"Okay," he answered just as quietly. "I mean… yeah, I guess okay."

He got up from the bed and headed for the bathroom, and was applying toothpaste to his toothbrush by the time she'd caught up to him. "What should we tell the kids?"

She thought she saw him wince. "Spence, I can't… I haven't really thought about it."

"We can't just not tell them," she insisted. "They do remember him, you know. They have the right to know he's not here anymore."

He nodded, averting her eyes. "Can we just… let them have this? Let them have their morning, and then we'll figure out a way to tell them?"

"Okay," she relented, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. It was his father; it was his decision. And maybe he was right. Maybe they should leave their kids in ignorant bliss for as long as they could.

The truth was that Spencer had been very vague to them about the whole thing. They'd had questions about Jenna's identity and their father's sudden disappearance yesterday but she'd only told them the bare minimum, and now she worried it might have been a mistake. They'd never had to deal with death before, and she found herself wishing she'd prepared them for it more.

She granted Toby and the kids their carefree morning. The kitchen was a mess by the time their bellies were full, but it didn't bother her the way it once might have. It had been one of the positives of being blessed with three kids at once. It put everything in perspective, and to her mother's horror a tidy kitchen was no longer one of Spencer's priorities. Most of the time.

Lawrence was already talking about going to the park later, and she and Toby shared a quick look of understanding. It needed to happen now. Neither of them liked the idea of bursting the happy little bubble they found themselves in, but at this point postponing the inevitable didn't make sense anymore.

"We need to talk to you guys," Toby said quietly.

They must have detected something in his tone because they sobered, and Cleo even asked worriedly, "Are we in trouble?"

"No," he quickly assured her with a sad smile, letting his fingers ghost across her cheek. He looked like he wanted to say more but didn't know how, so Spencer covered his hand with her own and took over.

"Remember I told you yesterday that Daddy went to visit your grandfather because he wasn't feeling well?"

They nodded solemnly and she felt Toby squeeze her hand, giving her permission to utter the words that he couldn't. "Well… it turns out he was a lot sicker than we thought. His heart wasn't working very well anymore, and it caused him to stop breathing."

They knew what that meant. They were eerily quiet until Lawrence needed confirmation. "He died?"

"Yes," Spencer answered as gently as she could. "I'm sorry."

At seven and a half, they understood that death was permanent but Spencer knew they probably weren't capable of feeling or reacting to it the way an adult would. But as they sat there looking confused and pitiful, she wondered if it was fair to expect them to have any reaction at all.

They hadn't known their grandfather. They'd seen him a few times in their short lives, yes. They knew he sent them money for their birthday every year. But they'd never hugged him. They'd never laughed with him. They'd never even had a decent conversation with him, and the last time they'd seen him they left in a hurry without a proper goodbye.

She was startled to see big tears sliding down Eloise's cheeks. Before Spencer could react, the child had crawled into Toby's lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. He seemed too dumbfounded to anything but reflexively rub her back, and Spencer reached out to run a hand over her blonde hair.

"It's okay, baby," she murmured painfully. "It's going to be okay."

"No," she disagreed, her voice muffled by Toby's shoulder. "He's Daddy's daddy."

Spencer's breath caught as she remembered her own words, and with striking clarity she saw the true cause of her daughter's tears. Eloise wasn't crying for her own grief – she was crying for Toby's. She knew that while Daniel hadn't meant much to her or to her siblings, he had still meant something to Toby.

Lawrence and Cleo slipped down from their chairs solemnly. It seemed their sister's words had resonated with them, too, because their arms joined hers in enfolding their father. Spencer saw him blink furiously – all in vain, and she placed her hand in between his shoulder blades comfortingly as a single tear fell down his cheek.

* * *

November 2028

Spencer drove out of Rosewood in silence, throwing a glance at her husband every now and then. He stared out the window with a far away look in his eyes, and she knew he was processing. He was a sensitive soul – always had been – and despite the fact that his father had been failing him since he was in diapers, she knew it still any sort of conflict with the man still left him battered and bruised.

She checked on her kids in the back seat of the car. Cleo was looking out the window too, fiddling with her seatbelt and swinging her legs back and forth. Spencer was surprised Toby hadn't asked her to stop kicking his seat, and she had to wonder if he was just that out of it. Wordlessly she reached behind her and placed a hand on her daughter's knee, and Cleo's legs reflexively dwindled into a halt.

Next to her was Eloise, thumb in her mouth and her head leaning against the edge of her car seat. Now that she was in first grade they'd started trying to gently introduce the idea of giving it up, despite all Spencer's instincts screaming that it was too soon and she wasn't ready. At a time like this, she looked into her child's vulnerable eyes and couldn't imagine taking away her primary source of self-soothing.

Lawrence sat very still for once, and he was the only one who looked back at her when her eyes found him in the rearview mirror. "I'm hungry, Mommy," he said, and under different circumstances it might have made her grin because her growing boy was always hungry. Now, it only caused her surprising guilt. These poor kids hadn't even had lunch.

Toby woke from his reverie at their son's words, his own fatherly instincts undoubtedly kicking in. He quickly consulted his phone, and was giving her driving directions away from the interstate soon after. A Happy Meal at McDonalds was hardly a conventional Thanksgiving feast, but the kids didn't complain. On the contrary – it seemed to lift their spirits, and when they were finished she and Toby allowed them some time on the adjoining playground. They shouted and laughed for the first time all day, but Toby's still somber outlook prevented Spencer from feeling complete relief.

She reached out and rubbed the back of his neck. "You okay?"

He shrugged, but she swore she saw him relax slightly under the ministrations of her fingers. When he didn't immediately answer, she continued and moved closer to him on the bench.

Finally he spoke, and his eyes didn't leave their playing children. "I just keep thinking everything would have been so different if my mom was still here."

Her hand suddenly fell still, and she looked at him sympathetically. He'd told her before how the arrival of their children had made him miss his mother on a whole new level. He'd never quite gotten over being deprived of her from such a young age, but the fact that his kids would never know their grandmother who surely would have adored them destroyed him in even more profound ways. It was almost too difficult for him to even contemplate, she knew. To think of what his children would have had – the rich kind of love Marion would have brought to their lives if things had gone just a little bit differently.

"I meant what I said," he interrupted her thoughts quietly. "I'm not doing this to them anymore, or to you. If my father wants to see them, he can come to our house where they're comfortable."

She rested her chin on his shoulder and nodded, feeling limp with fatigue as she realized she was perfectly willing to let him call the shots on this one. He lifted his arm to pull her all the way against him and tuck her head under his chin, and together they watched their children play in silence for several minutes.

There was a massive secret she was still keeping from him after all these years. Toby's father played such a small role in their lives that it certainly didn't cause her any daily distress – in fact, sometimes weeks went by that she didn't even think about it – but every once in a while she would look in her husband's unsuspecting eyes and feel something gnawing at her conscience, almost like a growing pain.

She'd always prioritized Toby's bond with his father over her own discomfort with the situation, but after what happened today did it even make sense anymore? She'd kept quiet so her husband could rebuild his relationship with his only living parent and so her children would know their grandfather, but all that had just gone up in smoke. And when she really allowed herself to think about it, she knew the tension had been simmering underneath the surface for long before she and Daniel had ever made their pact.

It would be a big deal to him, she knew. Toby was Toby and he didn't do well with secrets or lying, including from their children and especially from her. She waited until the day was over and they'd put the kids to bed, and it made her feel horrible because he was finally starting to seem a little like himself again after today's awful events.

He was cleaning up in the kitchen as she observed him through the open doorway, apprehension welling up inside her. She knew she needed to come clean now or take this secret to the grave, because she no longer had a valid excuse to keep it from him.

"Hey…" She trailed a hand down his muscled back. "Can we talk for a second?"

He looked around at the half-organized kitchen. "Now?"

"It's important."

He must have caught something in her face because he lowered the rag without another word and followed her to the couch in the living room. His expression was so patient and accepting as they sat down together. He always looked at her like she was so much better than she actually was, and it made it that much harder to fess up to things she knew would disappoint him.

"Remember when your dad suddenly called you out of the blue with a peace offering? When I was pregnant with the kids?"

He nodded and she shifted uncomfortably. "Well… There's something you don't know."

"What?" he asked softly, and she chanced a brief look at him.

"I met him for coffee a few days before. He asked me not to tell you."

His whole demeanor changed, and she could tell how tense he suddenly was. "Why?"

"Because… Because he essentially told me he'd never believed in our relationship, and he wanted me to convince him."

"Convince him of what?"

"I don't know!" she cried, though she did. She just didn't want to have to say it out loud. "That I loved you, I guess. That I wouldn't leave you for something he thought I put more value on."

He was silent for a second or two, and she saw a flicker of hurt in his eyes but when he spoke his voice sounded eerily composed. "And you didn't think I'd want to know about this? I can't believe you kept it from me for over _six years_. I… I thought we were better than that."

"We are, and I'm sorry, okay? But he asked me not to tell you," she repeated almost pleadingly but he cut her off before she could continue, and now he sounded agitated.

"He's an ass! We both know that! But I thought you and me were the team – not you and him."

"We are," she repeated quickly, feeling her body temperature rise. This was exactly what she'd been afraid of. The idea that he'd think she'd concocted something with his father behind his back. "But… I didn't want to ruin any chance you had of reconciling with him. I didn't want you to be mad at him."

"That's great, Spencer." He sounded upset more than angry, but that contradicted his next words. "That worked out really well because now I feel mad at both of you."

He moved away from her. He got up and headed for the door, and her heart started to pound when she saw him reaching for his coat and pulling on his shoes.

"Toby…"

"I can't do this now," he said shortly. "I need some air."

He hadn't done this in years – not since long before the kids were born. He moved to other parts of the house, yes, and sometimes to his workshop in the backyard but he didn't take off anymore, leaving her to pray to a God she wasn't sure even existed that he would return to her safely.

She startled as the front door fell shut angrily, and her vision went blurry with unshed tears.

* * *

May 2030

The morning of the funeral, Spencer expected it to be pouring rain just like in the movies. Instead, she grew aware of sunlight on her face as her brain chased away the last of its drowsiness and reminded her that today was no ordinary day. She slowly pealed back her eyelids and turned onto her side to face her husband in the bed. His eyes were still closed as they usually were in the mornings, and she leaned in to press a soft kiss against his neck. He still didn't open his eyes but his arm tightened around her and brought her closer, and she rested her head against him and allowed herself a brief moment of serenity.

"This is your last chance to get out of this," Toby finally spoke hoarsely, and she knew he was mostly teasing despite the underlying genuinity in his offer.

"Will you stop?" she retorted. "I'm coming and that's all there is to it."

They'd decided together to keep the kids in school, mostly because barring Jenna from them was still high on their priority list but also because they'd both observed them closely in the past five days and hadn't noticed any indications that they needed this official goodbye. Toby had told her not to feel obligated to go either, but she'd given him a look that made him smile ruefully and declare she was regarding him like he had seven heads.

She hadn't been to Rosewood since Christmas, and as they passed the infamous sign she couldn't help thinking that this town in springtime looked like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Toby parked behind the church, took the keys out of the ignition and turned to her tentatively.

"What?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

He reached out and gently massaged the back of her scalp with his fingertips. "Don't let Jenna get a rise out of you, okay? If she says things to try and get under your skin – which she probably will – just ignore it?"

She huffed. "I'll do my best but I can't promise anything."

"Fair enough," he relented with a smile.

They exited the car, and she pulled her black dress down before letting him swallow up her hand with his. They walked up to the church together, standing slightly to the side and nodding awkwardly at everyone who arrived as Jenna and Celeste greeted the very same people with their best victim-faces firmly in place. The front pew was reserved for the four of them, and Spencer felt a hot flush creep on her face as she realized Jenna had manipulated the situation so she would wind up next to Toby. She quickly squeezed between them, feeling repulsed at the idea of sitting next to the woman but thinking hell would freeze over before she allowed Toby to.

He held up pretty well, considering. Tears fell down his face as the coffin was carried in to the tune of Pachelbel's Canon, but other than that he sat quietly, clasping her hand between both of his and keeping himself in check the way he'd told her beforehand his father would have wanted him to.

Jenna delivered an impressive and eloquent speech about her stepfather. She'd always been both an excellent public speaker and a formidable manipulator – everything Toby was not – and Spencer's heart ached for him as he had to listen to his rapist use all her charm to paint a false picture of the kind of man and father Daniel Robert Cavanaugh had been. Jenna spoke at length of her history with him and her mother's history with him, but only mentioned Toby at the very end and didn't mention Spencer or the kids at all. The pastor briefly acknowledged his first wife, Marion, but other that she, too, was lost in the debris.

When they made their way back outside to the sunny skies, Spencer nodded at a few more people before gently wrapping Toby in a nice, long hug. She figured he needed it, and she could easily tell by the way he relaxed at the sensation of her hand running soothingly across his back that her instincts had been spot on.

They were interrupted by Emily, who wanted to say goodbye before she left. She had accompanied her parents to the church, but while Pam and Wayne had been invited by Celeste to attend the gathering at the Cavanaugh house afterwards, Emily was not. Toby apologized profusely once again as she hugged him, but she was gracious as ever and told him not to worry about it.

Peter and Veronica found them shortly after. Spencer had been surprised and somewhat impressed that they'd even wanted to come to this thing in the first place, considering she didn't think they'd ever exchanged two words with Toby's father, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Her heart swelled to see them treat Toby with consideration and support – Veronica patting his chest in an almost motherly way and Peter even stepping forward to give him an awkward hug.

"That stepsister of yours really is a piece of work," he muttered, clearly miffed that his daughter and grandkids hadn't made it into her speech.

"Dad," Spencer hissed warningly, but her embarrassment lessened when she noticed her father's words had made Toby smile for the first time since the ceremony began.

After her parents left, he informed her he wanted to express his gratitude to Pastor Ted before they headed for the house he had grown up in for the final part of the goodbye. As she waited for him, she was approached by an elderly lady she didn't recognize.

"Excuse me," she said politely. "Are you Toby's wife?"

"Yes," Spencer confirmed, surprised. "And you are…?"

"We used to live next door to them – my late husband and I. Back when Toby was a little boy and Marion was still alive. We used to have him over for milk and cookies sometimes. He was such a sweet kid."

Spencer was intrigued. She looked more closely at the woman and guessed she was in her eighties, which meant she had a good twenty years on Toby's parents. "Do you still live in Rosewood?"

"No," she replied with a slight shake of her head. "We moved to an apartment in Guilford about a year before Marion died. We came back for her funeral, though. Last time I saw Toby until today."

Spencer lowered her eyes and swallowed. She could only imagine how broken he must have been at his mother's funeral. She felt oddly grateful that she was at least able to hold his hand through his father's.

"I was hoping to talk to him," the woman went on. "Is he still here?"

"He went to thank the pastor but he should be back any minute," Spencer informed her, which seemed to satisfy her.

"You guys got kids?" she asked.

"Three," Spencer nodded, ignoring the slight disbelief that still sometimes overcame her when she answered this question – because who would have thought Spencer Hastings would ever have three kids? Seeing that the woman genuinely seemed interested, she reached for her phone and rapidly swiped through her pictures to find the most recent one of their three little troublemakers at the park.

The woman smiled when she saw them, even tilting Spencer's phone so she could get a better look. "Those are some cute kids. And that one looks just like Toby when he was little," she added, pointing to Eloise.

Spencer couldn't help it. She grinned as her heart nearly burst with pride, and she found herself missing her children with a sudden, almost painful ferocity.

"I know these aren't the best of circumstances," the woman continued, and her voice had gone soft. "But I've been watching him all day, and despite everything he has a sense of peace about him. After Marion…" She shook her head sadly. "It's nice to know he found some happiness."  
 _  
_This woman didn't even know that Marion's death had only been the tip of the iceberg in the unraveling of his childhood adversities, but as Spencer looked at this stranger she couldn't help feeling overwhelming gratitude that Toby had been loved. He had been appreciated for the kind soul that he was, and that brought her some semblance of comfort.

"Here he comes," Spencer nodded in his direction.

She saw her husband halt in his footsteps as a puzzled look crossed his face, but then recognition swept over him and his face broke out into a timid smile.

* * *

November 2028

It was late, and Toby still wasn't home, and Spencer still hadn't slept a wink.

Facing the idea of going to bed without him had been devastating, but around midnight Spencer had to face reality and accept that she could be waiting for him until the wee hours of the morning at this rate. She looked in on the kids before turning in – something they usually did together, and as Spencer kissed their sleeping faces and pulled the covers higher up on their shoulders she had to wonder how single mothers did this. How they dealt with the enormous responsibility of making sure their children were a perfectly balanced combination of kind to others but still strong enough to make sure their own needs didn't get trampled on. It was something that constantly kept her mind going, and Toby's unexpected absence made her ponder how she would survive the nearly constant anguish of parenthood if he weren't there for her to bounce her worries off of.

She really tried to sleep. She really, really did. She told herself she should close her eyes, and he'd be there as she opened them when the skies had turned light again. He might still be upset and might not cuddle with her like he usually did in the mornings, but he'd be there and they could figure things out because at the end of the day he loved her and she loved him and she'd truly come to believe there was nothing they couldn't overcome.

Honestly, she understood why this had prompted such an extreme reaction in him. He had spent the first two years of their relationship constantly playing catch-up to the secrets she kept from him. Of course he'd kept some pretty big ones of his own, but she knew that was in large part just backlash to the way she had set up their relationship. It had taken a long time for them to completely get past that, to the point that her first instinct had not been to protect Toby from her problems but to let him help her with them. She'd never allowed anyone near her in that very profound, very life-altering way – not because she didn't trust them (though that was the case in many cases, too), but because it wasn't the way she had been taught to exist. She'd been programmed to fix things herself without help from anyone, and that included both personal and practical problems such as homework or drug issues or an argument with a friend. From a young age, she hated dependency on other people so much that she even taught herself to tie her own shoes – not that her parents had noticed their youngest had stopped needing them to do it for her.

To come across someone who wanted to share her burdens had been confusing and almost unsettling as well as absolutely blissful in every way. As much as she knew he would drop everything in a heartbeat to help her through a storm, taking the steps to actually reach out to him hadn't always come naturally to her. Part of it had been that sharing her secrets could have cost him his life, yes – but in retrospect, Spencer could definitely admit that this was only a portion of the problem. She had denied it at the time, she had sworn to him that she lied to him because she wanted him to be safe; but looking back on the tough-as-nails but terribly vulnerable teenager she had once been, she knew Toby had been right when he claimed she also kept him in the dark because being on her own was all she knew.

Over the years, that had changed. Somehow, they managed together to rewire her brain into believing that letting him see even the ugliest parts of her wasn't the end of humankind as she knew it. And in contrary to her brain, her heart hadn't needed any rewiring. It had wanted him all along.

They had thrived away from Rosewood, both as individuals and as a couple, and one day Spencer had looked at him and wondered how it would have gone if circumstances had allowed their relationship to be this easy from the very beginning.

She knew that keeping this secret had reminded her husband of the Spencer who had lied to him over and over because she was simply more comfortable alone. And even if he realized on a rational level that this wasn't the reason, he had parts of him that were damaged and traumatized, too. She couldn't blame him for that. She could feel shattered that he had regressed to leaving her after an unblemished record of over a decade, but in all honesty it destroyed her for him as much as it did for her.

At long last, she heard the faint reverberations of his truck pulling up in the driveway. She felt the muscles over the entirety of her body relax, even though she knew it wasn't over. They would still need to talk, and she would still need to explain and possibly defend her decisions.

He took his time making his way through the house, and she heard his footsteps briefly enter their children's rooms before they approached her. He entered their bedroom quietly, and very slowly made his way over to the bed – in case she was asleep, she realized. She could only barely make out the expression on his face in the dark, but she could tell immediately from his posture that he was no longer angry.

Seeing she was awake he carefully crawled on the bed, atop the covers. He moved close to her, and when he gently leaned his forehead against hers she nearly cried. Her arms reflexively wrapped around his shoulders, and she whispered, "I'm sorry."

He sighed deeply and pulled back to run his fingers through her messy curls. "I love you more than anything is this world, Spencer." He sounded exhausted, like he'd just fought a war. "Fuck if I'm going to let my father cause any more problems between us."

She was relieved to hear that, but it didn't stop her from still wanting him to understand her motivations. "I knew that if I told you, you'd take it badly. And I wanted this second chance for you both. For you, and for the kids. I was pregnant, Toby. Even back then, I had this instinct in me to give them the world."

"I know," he sighed again in resignation. "He put you in an impossible position. I do realize that, and I'm fucking sorry."

She hadn't expected him to apologize – not for that. For leaving, maybe, but not for that.

"How is that even remotely your fault?" she asked softly, and in response he moved onto his back. He stared at the ceiling, and it was a long time before he answered.

"I brought him into your life," she finally spoke. "The kids are related to him because of me. He never takes responsibility for the damage he does, so I guess it's up to me to do it for him."

"Toby?" She rolled on her side and ran the palm of her hand back and forth across his chest. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

He chuckled. Then he returned to her and pressed a long, tender kiss to her lips. When he pulled back she still held his face between her hands, and although he smiled at her she sensed that there was still more to come. And sure enough, when he spoke again his voice was quiet, serious and very subtly hesitant.

"Is there anything else you've been keeping from me? About anything? For whatever reason? Because if there is, please just tell me. I promise I won't get upset, but… I do need to know."

"No," she said instantly, despising the notion that he had questioned what else she was calculatedly hiding from him. "And thank God because I hated every second of it."

He looked into her eyes is that way that made her feel like he was staring straight into her soul, but she easily looked back. It used to make her feel slightly uneasy when he did that, but now she had nothing to conceal and she wanted him to have no doubts about it.

He kissed her again in acceptance and then mumbled something about getting ready for bed. He only spent a few minutes in the bathroom, but she swore in those few minutes she came closer to falling asleep than in the two hours she'd spent tossing and turning before. When he came back to bed, he cuddled her from behind and she felt the last of the tension leave her body.

"I'm sorry," he murmured suddenly. "For taking off. For making you worry. I thought I was past that but apparently not."

She reached out behind her and cupped his cheek in an instinctive act of comfort. "We all fall back into old habits sometimes." She hoped he knew she was talking about herself as well as him. "It's okay. We start again tomorrow and try to do better."

He was silent for a moment. "When did you get so wise?" he asked, clearly teasing.

She smiled faintly in the dark. "I learned from the best."

* * *

May 2030

After a brief but happily nostalgic conversation with Toby's old neighbor, they exchanged phone numbers and said their goodbyes. The part that Spencer and Toby both dreaded the most called their attention now, and as they pulled up to the Cavanaugh house Spencer couldn't help but think there had always been something about this place that gave her the creeps. Even when Toby had still lived here and invited her over, which wasn't often and always when no one else was home, there had been something eerily gloomy about it. Her own house at the time hadn't exactly been a textbook example of warm and loving, but at least it was free of that depressing omen that always seemed to linger in this one. Even their children had sensed it, Spencer knew, and this had contributed to them disliking coming here.

Celeste had organized a small gathering, and as Spencer looked around the room she quickly realized she barely recognized anyone. They talked briefly with Emily's parents, who wisely made an early escape and afterwards she and Toby just stood around awkwardly, feeling like foreigners as Celeste and Jenna gave them the cold shoulder.

At one point she noticed Toby heading for the hallway, and she quickly set her coffee down and went to follow him. He was at the top of the stairs by the time she'd caught up, smiling slightly when he saw her and clearing his throat.

"I haven't been up here in years," he told her gruffly.

She joined him in making his way through the second floor, stopping to look closely every once in a while or trace something with his fingers. He shared some of his memories with her, told her little things mostly stemming from the times when his mother was still alive, and it always warmed her heart to think of her husband as a kid – the blonde locks and blue eyes and sweet smile that Spencer had seen in pictures. And as he went from room to room, she came to realize what he was doing and what this was all about.

He was saying goodbye. Daniel had left the house to his wife in his will, and Toby was simply walking through it one last time before he left his childhood home for good.

"We can still stop by here if you want," she said softly after a while, grazing his palm with her nails. "When we're in the neighborhood or whatever. She can't deny you that."

But he shook his head with a self-conscious shrug. "This place hasn't felt like home since my mom died. Now…" He lowered his eyes. "There's nothing here that makes me want to come back. Everything I loved is gone."

She gave a single nod and willed herself not to get emotional as she struggled to remind herself that besides some early, more joyous memories with his mother, he had also survived horrific abuse and neglect in this house. And sure enough, when they reached Jenna's old room – the one that was his first – he didn't go in. She knew this was where most of his violation had taken place, and it seemed he simply wasn't up for it.

They made their way back down the stairs, and seeing they hadn't been missed Toby led the way to the basement. This stuffy but rather large space had become his bedroom once Celeste and Jenna had moved in, and when he opened the door they saw it had returned to its original purpose of storage area. Spencer stole a quick glance at him to check on his reaction, but to her great surprise she saw the tiniest of smirks on his lips.

Puzzled, she was going to ask until the answer hit her out of nowhere and she felt a slow flush creep on her cheeks. "Oh my God, Toby…"

"What?" he shrugged. "It's the happiest memory I have in his room. Let me remember it."

She had been a senior in high school, and Toby was living in the loft already but his father had guilted him into dropping by to water the plants while he and Celeste were in New York City for a few days and Jenna was away at boarding school. She'd accompanied him, and they were inside for no longer than two minutes before she started pestering him to check out what they'd done to his bedroom now that he was out of the house. His narrow twin bed had still been there at the time, and it had been all they needed.

"I can't believe Spencer Hastings is in my bed," he had joked as they lay together in a naked heap of sated bliss. It had made her laugh unexpectedly and connect their lips in another deep kiss, and before she knew it they were at it again. She still remembered the unparalleled thrill of discovering sex with Toby – how indescribable it felt to be that close to him, their bare skin brushing up against one another and the look of total abandon in his eyes.

She peered into those same eyes now, and her breath caught when she saw that same now familiar look. She didn't know who made the first move but soon they were kissing, and he lifted her up against him so she could wrap her legs around his waist. Half-clothed quickies in awkward positions had never been the way of lovemaking they tended to gravitate towards – they usually preferred complete nakedness and a bed or a couch they could cuddle in afterwards, ideally forever – but now she couldn't imagine anything more perfect. They fumbled with clothes and amusedly hushed each other when things threatened to get too loud. His hands were all over her and his mouth was hot against her neck, and faintly it occurred to her that no matter how they did this he always managed to make her feel loved.

They found an intense, angsty rhythm, and Spencer's fingers tightened in his hair as she gasped in pleasure and rocked against him. Only a flawlessly balanced concoction of passion and tenderness could make her feel like she was flying like this and that was exactly what she felt for him, she thought as her lips found his again. In this moment, they were not parents to three children, he was not the grieving son and she was not the consoling wife. They were simply Spencer and Toby, and the rest of the world was no more than an afterthought.

When they made their way back upstairs feeling sweaty but satisfied, she swore Jenna had figured out what transpired in the dark, musty basement. She didn't know how this woman managed to know freaking _everything_ , especially while being blind, but for once Spencer found herself not giving a shit. Toby was smiling, and she felt physically and emotionally gratified. That was all that mattered.

They didn't stay for much longer. They said their farewells, told Celeste they'd be in touch to sort out Daniel's will and left the house with only the slightest bit of sentimentality.

Spencer had every intention of heading home and maybe getting a head start on her weekly cleaning routine, but it quickly became apparent her husband was steering the car in a different direction. She'd been unable to keep her hands off him since ascending from the basement, and now the hand that rested on his thigh tightened in disbelief and excitement as she recognized her surroundings.

"You're such a romantic bastard," she couldn't stop herself from telling him, and he chuckled as he stopped the car in their favorite spot in the woods that overlooked Rosewood.

It had been years since they'd been here – not since the kids, Spencer was pretty sure – but it hadn't changed much. They settled on a blanket Toby had pulled from the car, and for a long while they sat in comfortable silence as she enjoyed the sensation of him slowly trailing his hand up and down her back.

Finally, she sighed and used her fingers to gently tilt his face to hers. "How are you doing? Was today awful?"

"Parts of it," he admitted, but then graced her with a small, mischievous smile. "Other parts were actually surprisingly sweet."

She grinned back, but then turned serious. She hadn't asked too much of him in this past week – not wanting to push, not wanting to hurt him more than he was already hurting and not wanting to force him to confide in her when Toby had always been a process-first-talk-later kind of person. The abruptness of his father's death had shaken the core of his being, especially since it had left so many painful issues between them unresolved.

"How were things with your dad that last day?" she finally dared to ask cautiously. "Did you have a good talk?"

He stared out in front of him, and it took him a while to answer. "Not really. Not anything out of the ordinary, anyway. I know I called you and said I wanted us to try again with him but it was probably just in the emotion of the moment. I wasn't ready to part with him. I'm still not, but I guess the universe did it for me."

Her hand reached out to him, squeezing his knee tightly. "He loved you. Don't you think for a second that he didn't."

He shook his head – not in disagreement, but in reassurance. Then he pulled her closer, both arms wrapping around her as he brushed her eyelids with his lips. "Thank you for today," he murmured. "Thank you for the last twenty years."

"Nineteen and a half," she corrected him lightly, and he grinned as he always did at her obsession with accuracy.

They left in time to pick up their children from school, who where delighted to find both parents waiting for them together since their jobs didn't often allow it. The kids were full of stories and cuddles and youthful enthusiasm, and as she and Toby kissed their cheeks her heart swore she'd left them for a three-week vacation while her brain insisted it was a simple one-day trip to Rosewood.

Eloise stood between them already holding each of their hands, and so Spencer reached for Cleo's and Toby reached for Lawrence's, and linked together they all made their way back to the car.


End file.
